


Sacrifice

by MillionDollarBill



Category: The Shrouded Isle
Genre: Ambiguity, Death, Sacrifice, considering how open it is in terms of story-telling opportunities, im surprised this is the first shrouded isle fic, this is not good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 13:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12411084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MillionDollarBill/pseuds/MillionDollarBill
Summary: A short description of one season's sacrifice.





	Sacrifice

“Arron Iosefka.”

Feeling the sound of his own name travel through his ears gifted Arron with the unwelcome endowment of fear, knowing that his visit to the cliffs was not a leisurely one. He clasped his hands together and bowed his head into them, anxiously awaiting the words of His Excellency.

“I would hope that you are prepared to meet Svetlana Cadwell.”

Arron let out a short and pained groan of regret, a moment of introspection taking over him. He remembered leaving Neda that day, a smile on her face as she reorganized some of the materials for that week’s rituals. He journeyed from their home, making his way down to the beaches, where Svetlana waited for him. 

“Are you ready?” She had asked, her voice like silk.

“But of course.”

That, indeed, was the last clear memory Arron had of Svetlana before her sudden disappearance from the isle. Some commoners saw this unexpected amnesia as a way to escape from owning up to his guilt. Others took him for his word, perhaps he had been a victim of unfortunate circumstances. It was a hard crisis to accept no matter one’s beliefs, while also being the most exciting incident in a long while. Months had passed without any liveliness, and now an engrossing scene was beginning to unfold.

But at the end of the day, it was a generally accepted fact that Svetlana was, in the most likeliest of cases, dead. Worshippers of Chernabog did not simply vanish -- unless Clyde Cadwell’s crackpot theory of an earlier Awakening was true, despite its unanimous rejection -- so it had to be inner forces that robbed the isle of Svetlana’s presence. And in this investigation, all signs pointed towards Arron Iosefka.

His Excellency knew this, and prepared to deal with it accordingly. “Do you have any final requests before you exit this life?”

Arron did not flinch or show any sign of movement as the sword neared his flesh. He merely stared into the shape his hands created, a deep breath escaping him. “None other than forgiveness, Your Excellency.”

The official glared at the sinner below him, his brow furrowed above unrepentant eyes. “You have been a well-behaved young man -- up until recently, of course. I may be willing to extend some form of clemency, considering my own personal doubts about your alleged misdeeds. Our Lord, on the other hand, I cannot speak for.”

“That alone is enough to ease my mind,” Arron replied. “I am ready.”

His Excellency raised the sword once more. “Then, for your perversion and assumed execution, I shall deliver thee.”

And with one terminating descent, the season’s sacrifice had been performed.


End file.
